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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725678">The Blood and Sand Beneath Our Feet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBebbanburg/pseuds/ToBebbanburg'>ToBebbanburg</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spartacus Series (TV), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Spartacus AU, Top Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Violence, but very soft at the end, everything else that comes with gladiators, huh I never realised that was tagged like that, references to non-con, the spartacus inspired au I didn't know I wanted, things get very spicy in the middle, what with it being gladiators be aware of</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:23:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBebbanburg/pseuds/ToBebbanburg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yusuf and Nicolò are rival gladiators, brought together into the same ludus. Living under the shadow of Rome they fight, and love, and dream of breaking free.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>353</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Blood and Sand Beneath Our Feet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Finally putting my 2 Latin GCSEs to good use lads. Thanks to @bjtremike for beta-ing!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yusuf had been a gladiator in the house of his dominus for almost a decade. A decade was as good as a lifetime for a gladiator: most men barely lasted more than a couple of years fighting in the arenas. Yusuf was not most men. He had fought his way to the top, clawed each victory with bloodied hands and teeth, and over the years had earned his rightful title as champion of the city. He was respected by men, lusted for by women, but at the end of the day he was just like the others: his life was nothing but a plaything in the cruel hands of the Romans who called themselves his masters.</p>
<p>Each day was the same. He was woken at dawn, broke his fast along with his brothers, then trained on the sand of the ludus until night fell. Sometimes their dominus would watch from the balcony of his villa, looking down at them all with vague interest. Sometimes his wife would join him, her own eyes full of hunger as she watched. Yusuf could not say which he hated more. The days when he fought in the arena were the only times that he got to step foot into the outside world, the only break in his routine.</p>
<p>Until the day <em>he</em> arrived.</p>
<p>His name was Nicolò, and he was to be their newest brother. Yusuf had faced him once before in the arena and come off the better of the two, and from what he knew Nicolò’s reputation was almost great enough to rival his own. Most gladiators were bought in the slave markets, bartered for and bought in bulk, but Nicolò was a prize- the dominus had won him in a game of dice, and had made a rare trip downstairs to the ludus to greet him personally.</p>
<p>“What must he have done, do you think, to be enslaved by his own people?” Yusuf muttered to Castus as Nicolò was paraded in front of his new dominus.</p>
<p>“Does it matter?” Castus replied, keeping his voice low and his eyes to the ground. It wouldn’t do to be caught talking while the dominus was so near: men had been known to lose their tongues for such insolence.</p>
<p>“He’s very pretty.” The domina cooed from up on the balcony, where she had draped herself over the balustrade. “But can he fight well enough to keep that handsome face in one piece?”</p>
<p>“Would you like a demonstration, my dear?” the dominus offered, and his wife tittered, fanning herself in false modesty before nodding eagerly, the hunger clear in her eyes.</p>
<p>“Perhaps Yusuf? A thracian should always face a murmillo, should he not? Or should we see how he fares against Grumio?” the dominus idly gestured for Doctore to unchain Nicolò and arm him.</p>
<p>“Yusuf. Let’s see how he fares against our champion.” The domina decided instantly, and Yusuf felt a pit growing in his stomach. She was in a playful mood, a sign that never boded well.</p>
<p>He dutifully stepped forward, and allowed Doctore, their trainer, to hand him his shield and a blunted blade. He assessed Nicolò as he armed himself: the domina was right, he was pretty. His Roman features were framed by curtains of lank hair that hung around his face, and his eyes were as cold and as piercing as ice. Yusuf noticed that Nicolò was assessing him in much the same manner and grinned. He could study all he liked: Yusuf had beaten him before, and he would again.</p>
<p>Yusuf made the first attack, a probing swipe with his gladius to test the reflexes of his opponent. Nicolò dodged him easily. Yusuf took a defensive stance, anticipating Nicolò’s retaliation, but none came. Surprised, he shifted his stance slightly to allow him to attack again, and in that moment Nicolò struck.</p>
<p>He was quick. Yusuf found himself having to refocus, gritting his teeth and throwing himself back into the fight. This was no longer a simple show to put the new man in his place: this was a fight to prevent his title as ludus champion being stolen from under him.</p>
<p>Yusuf struck, his gladius sweeping up and along the curve of the sica Nicolò threw up in defence, throwing him off balance. He growled and struck again, then again, somehow unable to penetrate Nicolò’s defence. Yusuf’s shield was heavier than Nicolò’s, and for the first time he was aware of how horribly sluggish it made his movements. Nicolò was just too quick, too nimble, and Yusuf began to tire.</p>
<p>He almost thought about giving in and purposefully throwing the match. He would look petty, yes, and would be punished, but he could pretend (to himself at least) that he could have won if he had really tried.</p>
<p>That single moment of indecision threw him. Nicolò used his smaller shield to swing down on Yusuf’s sword arm, breaking his grip and causing his gladius to fall to the sand. He held his own sica to Yusuf’s heart, his chest panting as he turned his head for the dominus’ approval.</p>
<p>“Impressive.” The dominus called. The match was over.</p>
<p>“It seems we have a new champion in our midst.” The domina’s shrill voice fell from the balcony, and Yusuf’s vision clouded red.</p>
<p>“Not yet, my dearest. Yusuf was not prepared for a fight this morning. He remains our champion, but should consider his position carefully. Doctore! Show Nicolò his new home. And ensure Yusuf is never caught so unprepared again.”</p>
<p>The dominus and his wife disappeared into the villa, and Yusuf was left staring at the man he now hated.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Doctore had the sense to keep Yusuf and Nicolò apart during training, for the first week at least. Yusuf found himself watching the other man as they trained, memorising his every move with a tactical eye. He was a beautiful fighter, light on his feet and as quick as lightning, good at using his opponent against themselves. If he wasn’t so cold, if he hadn’t beaten Yusuf so effortlessly that first day, he might have almost been tempted to try and befriend him.</p>
<p>As things were, however, their initial animosity bloomed into a full-blown rivalry. Yusuf accidentally fell into Nicolò one day whilst sparring with Castus. Nicolò read the move as intentional and retaliated that same afternoon by purposefully tripping Yusuf during drills. They spat and cursed at each other, each man pushing himself past his limits during training in an attempt to outshine the other. When Doctore paired them against each other to spar they both left with cuts and bruises not usually caused by the blunted training blades.</p>
<p>They avoided each other during their down time, sitting far apart during meals and glaring at each other when they passed in the washroom. Yusuf knew it was petty, knew that there was more that united them than divided, but could not bring himself to be the one to break first. This was his ludus, these were his brothers, and Nicolò needed to accept that.</p>
<p>Nicolò beat him in his first outing in the arena.</p>
<p>It was a month since he had arrived, a month of simmering tension brewing between him and Yusuf that culminated with Yusuf on his back, Nicolò’s sica at his throat and the crowd roaring in his ears. It was by no means Yusuf’s first defeat, but something about Nicolò’s cold eyes and twisted smirk set his blood boiling.</p>
<p>The dominus took care not to pit them together again for a while, letting each of them win victory after victory and fanning the flames of their rivalry. Yusuf knew he was being manipulated, knew they both were, and yet couldn’t stop his hatred towards the other man growing.</p>
<p>Half a year later they fought again, and that time Yusuf emerged as the victor. The cheers of the arena faded to a dull throbbing in his ears as he pinned Nicolò to the ground, pressed so close to each other that Yusuf could feel Nicolò’s chest heaving as he caught his breath.</p>
<p>“Well fought.” Nicolò said, his pale eyes bright through the slats of his helmet. He almost sounded sincere.</p>
<p>Yusuf snarled and pushed himself off, rolling to his feet and standing up to greet the crowd in a fluid motion. He tried to ignore Nicolò clambering to his feet behind him, focusing instead on the cries of the spectators chanting his name. He’d done it. He was back where he belonged.</p>
<p>He didn’t look at Nicolò once on the journey back to the ludus and headed straight to wash, knowing the baths would be empty as his brothers generally preferred to eat after a fight rather than bathe. Bathing was one of the few luxuries in Yusuf’s life, and the few moments he could steal to do so in peace were treasured. The water was never warm enough, the soap foul-smelling, but if Yusuf closed his eyes he could almost transport himself back to his life before he arrived in Rome.</p>
<p>He sloughed away the worst of the dirt and blood from his fight, then started to wash himself more thoroughly inch by inch. When he was done he sat in the water, enjoying the feel of the gentle ripples against his legs. He’d earned this. He closed his eyes and let himself drift, letting go of the tension and anger that had built up in his body.</p>
<p>Yusuf didn’t look up when he heard someone enter the room. Privacy was a luxury reserved for those up in the villa: here in the ludus there was no shame or secrets between the brothers. It was only when the man groaned as he splashed water on himself did Yusuf turn around. Nicolò. He opened his eyes, narrowing them at the intruder.</p>
<p>“Peace, peace.” Nicolò held his hands up. “I only want to bathe.”</p>
<p>“Well keep your distance.” Yusuf warned him. He didn’t put it past the other man not to try and drown him in the wash water whilst Doctore’s back was turned.</p>
<p>“I do not wish to be your enemy, you know.” Nicolò said quietly as he stripped. “I know I have fought you both in and out of the arena but... that is simply our life, is it not?”</p>
<p>Yusuf sighed and stood up, drying himself off with brisk strokes of a threadbare towel. His moment of peace had been brought to an abrupt halt.</p>
<p>“It is.” He agreed. “And that means that if one of us wishes to survive in this world, it must be to the detriment of the other.”</p>
<p>“Does it?” Nicolò asked, his eyes sharp even from across the room. The honesty in his question was writ across his face, his eyebrows tilted slightly upwards as he waited for Yusuf’s answer. He looked something akin to hopeful.</p>
<p>“Yes.” Yusuf said, and Nicolò’s face turned hard.</p>
<p>“As you wish.” He said, and turned his back to Yusuf.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Nicolò’s words haunted Yusuf’s dreams, bringing to light the truth which he already knew. This wasn’t him. The pettiness, the jealousy, the hatred… those were qualities that had been beaten into him by years of servitude. The old Yusuf, the Yusuf he still hoped he was, would never have turned down an offering of peace. Would never have put himself in the position where he needed to broker a truce in the first place. He resolved to change, to force himself to remember the man he used to be.</p>
<p>In the following days, Yusuf made a point to make himself notice things about Nicolò besides his arrogance and animosity. He would forgo portions of his food to share with those who the dominus was punishing. When one of their brothers made a mistake in training Nicolò would stumble, drawing Doctore’s wrath onto himself. He would hum in the evening as he settled on his bedroll, a soft, mournful tune that Yusuf could hear if he strained his ears.</p>
<p>When Yusuf saw Nicolò hide a hunk of bread under the dining tables to sneak away he decided to apologise.</p>
<p>“You know, you will be whipped if you are found sharing your food.” Yusuf remarked as he sat down next to Nicolò.</p>
<p>“Well then you should be happy.” Nicolò didn’t even look at him. Yusuf sighed, and took a breath.</p>
<p>“I fear I was too hasty the other week. You are right. We are bound together in this world; we should not waste our energy fighting each other.”</p>
<p>Nicolò looked at him, his eyes searching Yusuf’s own, and for a horrible moment Yusuf was certain Nicolò would reject him in the same manner he himself had been rejected not long ago. Instead, Nicolò nodded.</p>
<p>“I’m glad.” He said simply.</p>
<p>Yusuf let out a laugh of relief. “Thank you.” He said. “If possible, I would like us to start again. As brothers, not enemies.”</p>
<p>“As brothers.” Nicolò smiled. “I would be honoured, Yusuf.”</p>
<p>They ate in silence, the awkward peace between them soon turning into companionable tranquillity. It was nice, Yusuf thought, not to be glared at while he ate.</p>
<p>“What was your life? Before this?” Nicolò asked suddenly, catching Yusuf off guard. He actually had to think before he answered, having not spoken of his past life for so long the words felt almost dusty in his mouth.</p>
<p>“I came from a family of traders.” Yusuf said eventually. “From Carthage.”</p>
<p>Nicolò inhaled sharply. Good, Yusuf thought. He already knew about the war. The war that had seen him and his family clapped in chains and put onto a boat for a final time.</p>
<p>“It was a beautiful city.” He said, determined to only recall the good parts. “You could find almost anything there if you knew where to look.”</p>
<p>Nicolò said nothing, but his eyes urged Yusuf to continue.</p>
<p>“People would travel from all across the land to visit our markets, to drink at our taverns. My grandfather started off as a farmer, far far south from the port. He always said he grew up hearing stories of the city, of how it was bigger and more wonderful than anything he could ever imagine, and so one day he packed up all he could into a cart and made his way there. He was a charmer- a poet, my grandmother would always say- and in a few years he’d established himself as one of the most respectable merchants along the coast.”</p>
<p>“And did you inherit any of his skills?” Nicolò asked, his head tilted slightly to the side as he hung on Yusuf's words.</p>
<p>“As a merchant? I suppose I did, although I was still working with my father before I was forced to pick up a sword.”</p>
<p>Nicolò nodded at his answer, then smiled. “I meant as a poet.”</p>
<p>“Ah.” Yusuf fell silent. “I’m afraid I’ve had little cause for poetry these past years.”</p>
<p>“A shame.” Nicolò said. “I would have loved to hear some. My mother used to say poetry and song were nourishment for our hearts, as important as any bread and water.”</p>
<p>“She sounds like a wise woman.”</p>
<p>“She is. I think,” Nicolò paused, as though he wasn’t sure of what to say, “I think she would like you.” He said finally, his pale skin flushing slightly.</p>
<p>“Where is she?” Yusuf asked.</p>
<p>“She’s-”</p>
<p>“Yusuf! Nicolò!” Doctore’s voice cut Nicolò off and both he and Yusuf jumped quickly to their feet. “You should be out on the sand, not sitting here gossiping like old women.”</p>
<p>“Yes Doctore.” They both muttered, dutifully heading outside. Yusuf didn’t mind too much: it meant he had good reason to talk to Nicolò later and pick up where they left off, to explore the boundaries of their newfound companionship.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Yusuf found it surprisingly easy to maintain the peace with Nicolò after that. They began to eat together at mealtimes, to partner up with each other voluntarily during drills. In the evenings they would talk, swapping stories of their lives before they came to the ludus, but though Nicolò could talk on end about his home and family in the north he never once mentioned how he came to be enslaved. It was only later, weeks later, than Yusuf felt comfortable enough in their friendship to broach the subject.</p>
<p>“I’ve been wondering: how did you end up a gladiator? It’s uncommon to see one such as yourself among us.” He asked one day as they sat cleaning their armour.</p>
<p>Nicolò made a face, staring into his own murky reflection in his helmet. “My father... he borrowed a lot of money. More than he could ever hope to repay in his lifetime. When he died that debt passed on to me, to my mother and sisters, and I knew what I had to do.”</p>
<p>“You sold <em>yourself</em> into slavery?” Yusuf had never imagined how anyone could willingly enter into this life, and yet here Nicolò was, making it seem as simple a choice as deciding what bread to buy at the market.</p>
<p>“Every single coin I’ve ever earnt from my winnings has gone into paying that debt.” Nicolò said. “It’s been five years... I honestly did not think I would last even that.”</p>
<p>“And how much has been repaid?” Yusuf asked. To his surprise Nicolò smiled.</p>
<p>“Most. My mother is free, Pulchra and Leda are as of last year free as well. All remaining debt now falls to me, and me alone.”</p>
<p>“How long will that take to pay off?”</p>
<p>“Before I arrived here? Maybe two years. But now I am forced to compete with you for the title of champion I fear that that time has increased.”</p>
<p>There was no malice in Nicolò’s voice, no bitterness, and yet Yusuf felt a cold vice grip his heart.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” He said, for want of anything else to say. Nicolò turned to him, his piercing eyes sparkling with unshed tears.</p>
<p>“Don’t be. You must fight for your own freedom. I would gladly spend another year in this torture if it meant another man able to cut his own time here short.”</p>
<p>Yusuf gave a short, hollow laugh.</p>
<p>“Mine isn’t the freedom I can buy. I have to wait on the good grace of the dominus to see if he ever decides to free me.”</p>
<p>Nicolò’s brow furrowed, and he reached across the sand to take Yusuf’s hand in his.</p>
<p>“I swear, once I am free I will dedicate myself to tearing this entire ludus to the ground. I will either win your freedom with gold or take it with blood.”</p>
<p>Yusuf was struck by an image of Nicolò, as bloodied and frenzied as he was in the arena cleaving a path through their slavers to get to him. Yusuf had been on the receiving end of that fire before, and realised how much he yearned to see it turned on someone else. How much he yearned to fight <em>alongside</em> Nicolò for once, as brothers.</p>
<p>“That is an image that will keep me warm on many a cold night.” He told Nicolò.</p>
<p>Nicolò smiled slightly, and said nothing, but Yusuf realised something else in that moment: as much as he wanted to see Nicolò full of righteous rage, he wanted much <em>more</em> to see his eyes light up in laughter, to see his lips curl into a smile. He wanted it more than he wanted rest after a fight, more than he wanted water after a drought. The thought scared and thrilled him in equal measures, and he warred between wanting to pull his hand out from under Nicolò’s and wanting to clutch him tighter.</p>
<p>He settled for leaving his hand where it was, enjoying the gentle pressure of Nicolò’s hand against his own. It was rough, as calloused as Yusuf’s was, but it was warm and comforting and more real than anything else Yusuf had experienced living under the shadow of Rome.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>The weeks wore on, the days growing longer and hotter until soon the heat at noon was too unbearable to train in. It was rare to be able to relax in the middle of the day, but as the summer solstice approached even Doctore was unable to wield a sword outside for more than a minute.</p>
<p>“Rest.” He told them, ramming his sword into the sand so that it stood upright, quivering. “You have until the shadow reaches half the length of the sword, but know this: you will be graced with no such respite in the arena.”</p>
<p>“Thank the gods.” Nicolò groaned as he tossed his sica to the ground, stretching his arms out before wandering off to sit under the shade of the balcony. Yusuf joined him, and together they closed their eyes and rested their heads against the cool stone wall.</p>
<p>They didn’t talk, but for Yusuf it was enough to simply sit in the presence of another and <em>breathe</em>. There was a slight breeze that blew down from the mountain above them, and Yusuf inhaled deeply, feeling the fresh air soothe his aching lungs. He’d learnt to take joy in the small things in life, and turned to Nicolò to ask if he felt the same, but the words dried on his tongue as he saw one of the domina’s slaves approaching.</p>
<p>Her name was Flavia, Yusuf distantly recalled, and she looked terrified to be stood alone in the ludus, surrounded by battle-hardened men.</p>
<p>“Are you lost?” Yusuf joked, hoping to put her at ease. “Or are you to be our latest recruit?”</p>
<p>She smiled slightly at that, but her smile soon faded as she cleared her throat to speak.</p>
<p>“Nicolò,” She said, her voice small, “the domina wills it for you to come to her.”</p>
<p>“Why?” Nicolò asked bluntly.</p>
<p>Flavia’s eyes widened slightly and she glanced around before lowering her voice. “She wills it for you to come <em>to her bedchamber</em>.”</p>
<p>Yusuf’s heart jumped at her words, his chest suddenly too tight. Why was this affecting him so? Perhaps it was the heat. Beside him, Nicolo’s face hardened.</p>
<p>“And what am I to do there? Lie with her?” he asked.</p>
<p>Flavia blushed a violent shade of red and Yusuf felt a twang of pity for her. She nodded.</p>
<p>“What will she do to me? If I do not go?” Nicolò asked.</p>
<p>“You will be beaten.” Flavia whispered. “Confined to your cell.”</p>
<p>“And what will she do to you when you tell her I will not come?”</p>
<p>“I will suffer in a similar fashion.” Flavia said in a small voice.</p>
<p>“Very well. Lead me to her.” Nicolò stood up.</p>
<p>Yusuf could see how Nicolò’s jaw was clenched so tight it must be painful, how his fingers twisted and pulled at the fabric of his subligaria before he forced them into fists. There was nothing to be done, Yusuf knew that, but his heart still broke to see the man he’d grown to care for suffer so silently. His hearth thudded in his ears, and before his mind caught up to what his body was doing he was on his feet.</p>
<p>“Going somewhere, Roman?” he snarled, using a tone his tongue hadn’t tasted in weeks. “You forgot something.”</p>
<p>Nicolò stopped and turned, his face an unreadable mask. “What did I forget?”</p>
<p>“This.” Yusuf said, and punched him square in his beautiful face. It was a carefully placed hit, aimed not to break his nose or cause any great deal of damage, but the force behind it was real and Nicolò reeled, his hands instinctively coming up to touch at the stream of blood gushing from his nose. With a cry he hurled himself at Yusuf, swinging back at him, and just like that they were fighting.</p>
<p>There was none of the showmanship of the arena, none of the carefully placed blows and parries they drilled day after day. It was nothing but a flurry of inelegant fists and kicks that lasted only a few seconds before their brothers were pulling them apart, holding them back.</p>
<p>“<em>What</em> is going on?” Doctore stormed into the room, his voice scattering the gladiators away from his path. He took in the sight before him in an instant, his lip curling into a snarl.</p>
<p>“I thought better of you both.” He said. “You will return to your cells immediately and await further punishment. Castus, you will return to the dominus with Flavia and explain what has transpired here. Neither of these men are fit to step foot upstairs for now.”</p>
<p>They returned to their cells under the watchful eye of Doctore, and dutifully remained there throughout the rest of the day without food. Yusuf hadn’t been punished in such a way since he had first arrived at the ludus, and his stomach rumbled when the bell for the evening meal rang and he and Nicolò had to go without. The best thing for it, he decided, was to try to sleep, and so he settled down on his bedroll to try to rest.</p>
<p>He managed to doze for a few minutes, but was soon roused by Nicolò’s voice.</p>
<p>“You did that for me, didn’t you?” he asked softly, his voice pulling Yusuf back into wakefulness. “Or do you really still despise me as much as you once did?”</p>
<p>“I do not.” Yusuf hastened to reassure him. He rolled over so that he was facing Nicolò through the bars of their cells, the other man’s position an exact mirror image of his own. “I just… I could not bear to see you leave to fulfil such a task.”</p>
<p>Nicolò’s face broke into a slight smile. “Then you have my thanks. You did not have to do that for me.”</p>
<p>“I wanted to.” Yusuf said. He brushed his fingers out across the dirt floor until they lay under the bars between them, pushing mere millimetres into Nicolò’s cell. Wordlessly, Nicolò stretched his own hand out and lay it on top of Yusuf’s, linking their fingers together. They couldn’t stay like this, Yusuf knew that, but for a few wonderful minutes he let himself believe he could hold Nicolò’s hand for an eternity.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Many days passed until Yusuf was alone with Nicolò again. They were waiting to enter the arena, the two of them the last of their dominus’ ludus to fight; Castus had left barely a minute ago, bidding them both luck in their own matches.</p>
<p>“Yusuf.” Nicolò said, his gaze fixed firmly on the wall in front of him. “Will you tell me more of your home?”</p>
<p>Nicolò’s knuckles were white where they clutched his sica, his left knee jittering and stilling at alternate intervals as he tried to keep his nerves at bay. The roar of the arena echoed through the corridors and into their room, a horrible wall of noise that rose and fell like waves. There was no telling who was winning: the crowd would bay for blood no matter what.</p>
<p>“Of Carthage? There’s so much to tell, I hardly know where to start. Should I tell you of the beaches, with sand so white it’s almost blinding to look at? Or would you prefer to hear of the sea, of how the gentle waves make a noise so soothing that even the most colic child would be lulled to sleep after barely a minute on the shore? Would you like me to tell you of how the markets held spices and silks of every colour of the rainbow, the stories their sellers have to offer more vibrant and vivid than the wares they have to sell?”</p>
<p>Nicolò laughed. “There’s that poet’s tongue, painting such a beautiful picture that I feel almost sick for a home I never knew.” He tore his gaze away from the wall and looked directly at Yusuf, the eyes that Yusuf had once thought heartless and icy suddenly seeming warm and calming. “Thank you. Truly.”</p>
<p>“Of course.” Yusuf said, his throat dry. He coughed to clear it. “Look, I-“ he faltered. “Good luck.” He said.</p>
<p>Nicolò smiled. “You too, Yusuf.”</p>
<p>“Thracian! Nicolò!” Doctore entered the room, his figure blocking out what little light filtered through. “Arm yourself.”</p>
<p>“Yes Doctore.” Nicolò replied, standing up and putting his helmet on. If those beautiful eyes of his sought Yusuf out before he left for the arena Yusuf didn’t know, but he felt almost as though he could sense their cool gaze on him through the helmet.</p>
<p>The next time he saw those eyes it was through the haze of tears as Nicolò’s body was carried out of the arena, his helmet missing and his eyelids flickering as he fought to stay conscious.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Nicolò lived. He suffered several wounds to his upper body and did not wake for almost two days, but he lived. The day after he woke he limped into the training ground only for Doctore to shake his head and gesture for him to leave.</p>
<p>“They will not let me train.” Nicolò said miserably when Yusuf found him during their break. “If I do not train I will be weaker when I next fight, and I’ll fall again.”</p>
<p>“You need to rest.” Yusuf told him. “You will only injure yourself if you return to training before you’re ready.”</p>
<p>“You sound like Doctore.” Nicolò laugher bitterly.</p>
<p>“He’s a hard man, but a wise one.” Yusuf said. “Rest, Nicolò. Enjoy this brief respite.”</p>
<p>Yusuf knew how hard it was to stand by and watch your brothers train while feeling useless; he had been unable to train for months once after having his sword arm broken in a fight. The time spent fetching and carrying for Doctore and his brothers while he healed had only spurred him on to train harder when he finally could.</p>
<p>Nicolò bore his recovery better, perhaps because Doctore took pity on him after a couple of days and offered to let him step in and run afternoon drills every other day. Yusuf suspected that was more to do with Doctore wanting to nap in the sun then letting Nicolò feel like he had a purpose, but either way, Nicolò took to his new role with enthusiasm.</p>
<p>A little too much enthusiasm, Yusuf thought, as they washed together after one day’s training: he noticed fresh spots of red appearing on Nicolò’s bandages and frowned.</p>
<p>“You’re bleeding.” He said. “When was the last time your dressing was changed?”</p>
<p>“I don’t think it ever has been.” Nicolò admitted with a rueful smile. Yusuf swore under his breath.</p>
<p>“Sit down.” He said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”</p>
<p>He left the washroom and quickly gathered up supplies, hurrying back to Nicolò. He carefully cut away the old bandages and took a vinegar soaked cloth to the exposed wounds. Nicolò’s cuts had been stitched well, with no current sign of infection, but Yusuf was taking no chances.</p>
<p>“Here.” Yusuf carefully pressed the cloth to Nicolo’s raw flesh and held it there, ignoring the hisses from the other man. “Better a little discomfort now than greater pain later. Trust me, I’ve seen stronger men than you die of infection.”</p>
<p>“Strength has nothing to do with it.” Nicolò said softly. “Death takes us all sooner or later.”</p>
<p>“Well hopefully for you it will be later.” Yusuf said, reaching for the bandages and wrapping them tight around Nicolò’s arms and chest.</p>
<p>“And you.” Nicolò added.</p>
<p>“And me, yes.” Yusuf agreed with a grin.</p>
<p>He tied the bandages off neatly and tucked the ends away then leant away slightly, assessing his work. Nicolò’s hair had fallen into his eyes, and Yusuf reached out to sweep it out of the way. When he withdrew his hand he realised Nicolò was staring at him, his pupils dilated and his lips slightly parted.</p>
<p>“Yusuf.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I-“</p>
<p>Yusuf cut him off with a kiss. It was barely a brush of the lips, nothing more than a fleeting moment of warmth, and yet he felt something stir in him that he hadn’t felt in years. From the way Nicolò sighed and tried to follow Yusuf’s lips when he pulled away he’d wager that Nicolò felt the same way.</p>
<p>Nicolò licked his lips, as though hoping to find a trace of Yusuf still lingering there, then moved in to kiss Yusuf again.</p>
<p>This kiss was deeper, longer, and Yusuf let out a contented groan when Nicolò threaded a hand through his curls to stroke along the nape of his neck. Nicolò’s lips were dry, cracked by the hours spent under the sun, but they were still the sweetest thing Yusuf had tasted in years. He felt as though he were floating, swept away down a river by the current of Nicolò’s kisses. He could stay like this forever, he could-</p>
<p>The door to the baths swing open and they hastily pulled away from each other. Yusuf picked up the bandages and began to fold them up, hiding his face from the door. He hoped whoever entered would mistake Nicolò’s flush for a simple reaction to the hot water.</p>
<p>“Jupiter’s cock, Nicolò, you ran us as hard as Doctore today.” Castus groaned as he joined them by the water, stripping off without a second glance and settling between them to start washing. “I’m aching all over.”</p>
<p>“You’re just weak, Castus.” Yusuf said good naturedly. “I thought Nicolò was taking it rather easy.”</p>
<p>“Just you wait.” Castus said. “Gods help me but if I’m ever taken out of training I’m going to push you two so hard.”</p>
<p>“Then I shall pray every day for your good health.” Nicolò laughed and stood up, stretching his arms to test the new bandages. “Thank you for your help, Yusuf.”</p>
<p>“Of course.” Yusuf replied, unable to stop the smile that spread across his face as he looked up at Nicolò. Nicolò returned the smile, but then shot a look over at Castus and minutely shook his head before he left.</p>
<p>Yusuf knew what he meant. Whatever was growing between them had to stay a secret: the ludus was no place for such things. It was a sobering thought, and the moment of euphoria he had felt kissing Nicolò swiftly faded. He was dimly aware of Castus talking to him as he finished washing, but his words floated through Yusuf’s ears without meaning. All he could think of was Nicolò, of what he wanted, and what he knew he could never have.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>It hadn’t rained in a month. The rivers were running dry, the crops were failing, and many were beginning to die. The gods had been angered, people told each other in hushed whispers, though for why they couldn’t say.</p>
<p>The dominus did what all powerful men did when they came up against an insurmountable force: he tried to take control. Games, he reasoned, surely games dedicated to the gods would force them to pity the Romans and bring rain once again.</p>
<p>The climax of the games was set to feature Yusuf against Heracleo, a hulking giant of a man found fighting in the street pits. The Cyclops, they called him, due to his one mangled eye that lay white and dead amongst a mass of scar tissue. His last victory in the arena had seen him tear his opponent’s throat out with his teeth: the bookies were running equal odds against them both.</p>
<p>“If this doesn’t get the god’s attention, I don’t know what will.” The dominus muttered to Doctore as he gave Yusuf a once-over before sending him into the belly of the arena.</p>
<p>“Fight well, Yusuf.” He said, turning his attention away from Doctore. “For the good of the house, no, for the good of the <em>city</em>, take that bastard down.”</p>
<p>“Of course, dominus.” Yusuf bowed his head respectfully.</p>
<p>He felt a knot in his stomach as the dominus left; he hadn’t felt this nervous before a fight in years, the fear he had once felt worn down over the years to a dull sensation that he could easily ignore. This was different. Heracleo was perhaps the toughest opponent he would ever face in the arena, and with the games being held in honour of the gods it was certain that the loser would face death. In the past death had not scared Yusuf- some days he had even felt as though he would welcome it- but now he had something to live for. He had Nicolò.</p>
<p>The only relief Yusuf had found in the drought was his newfound thirst for Nicolò. His body may have been parched, but his soul thrived. Every stolen kiss, every brush of the hands, every secret smile was like a cooling balm on his burning skin. The private moments they could find together were few and far between, but when they managed to find them… Yusuf had no qualms that they were worth the risk of discovery.</p>
<p>It was to thoughts of Nicolò that Yusuf walked out into the arena to. He pictured Nicolò by his side, imagined his voice calmly telling Yusuf to breathe, to focus. When Yusuf raised his sword, preparing to meet Heracleo’s attack he did so with the memory of Nicolò leading him through drills.</p>
<p><em>Stay calm</em>. He told himself, in Nicolò’s voice. <em>Heracleo is all brute force and no finesse. You can do this</em>.</p>
<p>Heracleo charged at him. Yusuf dodged only just in time, the giant’s blade glancing off the curve of his shield. Just as he’d imagined the man was slow to stop, his momentum carrying him several paces beyond where Yusuf stood. Yusuf was used to fighting opponents who were lighter and faster than him: to fight someone slower than himself for once was surprisingly refreshing.</p>
<p>Yusuf ducked and dodged and weaved, testing Heracleo’s limits as the other man charged at him over and over again. When Yusuf managed to nick his leg with his gladius the giant roared and swung out with his arms, knocking Yusuf clean off his feet. Yusuf had to frantically scramble backwards to escape the sword that was swung straight down at the spot where he lay, and only just managed to get to his feet in time before Heracleo ran at him again.</p>
<p>This time his opponent seemed to change tactic, slowing before he even reached Yusuf and instead swinging out wildly with his sword, forcing Yusuf to raise his shield as he stood his ground against a series of devastating blows. He was so focused on maintaining his defence that he didn’t noticed the hand clasping at the edge of his shield until it was too late- Heracleo tore the wood from his hands and tossed it aside as if it were no more troublesome than a piece of parchment. Yusuf was undefended.</p>
<p>Heracleo grinned as he bore down on Yusuf, a terrible grimace that showed off incisors that had been filed to sharp points. Yusuf could have sworn they were already bloodied. Unencumbered by his shield Yusuf pushed back with a burst of speed, managing to land two clean blows to the giant’s unprotected chest before the man laughed, and gripped Yusuf’s gladius by the blade. Yusuf wrestled for his sword, his eyes fixed in horror on the spot where the blade bit into Heracleo’s hand, causing rivulets of blood to spill down towards the hilt.</p>
<p>With a surge of strength Heracleo grunted, and succeeded in pulling Yusuf’s gladius out of his hands. Yusuf stumbled backwards, and as the crowd cheered and called for blood Heracleo backhanded Yusuf, smacking him in the centre of his helmet with the hilt of his own blade. Yusuf staggered, black spots clouding his vision, and the next thing he knew Heracleo had lifted him clean off the ground and lifted him into the air.</p>
<p>The crowd began to chant Heracleo’s name, their voices merging and forming into one as their cries grew louder and louder. Heracleo began to lift Yusuf up and down in their air in time with their chants, dragging the moment out. Yusuf had to act now.</p>
<p>As quick as a flash he fumbled at this belt, exhaling sharply when his fingers clasped around the hilt of his dagger, and in one smooth motion his pulled the blade free from its sheath and plunged it deep into Heracleo’s neck. The giant stumbled, a strangled moan escaping his lips, then fell forward onto the arena floor. Yusuf could do little to break his fall, Heracleo’s hands still clamped tight around him, but managed to pull himself free. He pushed himself to his feet and retrieved his sword from the sand.</p>
<p>He stood above Heracleo, the tip of his gladius pointed at his throat, and as he dealt the finishing blow the first droplets of rain in weeks fell from the sky. He tore off his helmet and let the rain wash away the sweat and blood and sand, turning his face to the heavens and dropping down to his knees as exhaustion took over. Perhaps the gods had been watching after all.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Yusuf was greeted with cheers as he arrived back at the ludus, the cries of his brothers more earnest and touching than those of the arena crowd. They hugged him and praised him, and even Doctore cracked a smile and nodded in approval as they passed each other. Nicolò hugged him harder than anyone, and Yusuf had to fight the urge to sweep him off his feet and kiss him until they were breathless. He was pulled away from Nicolò’s embrace so that Castus could press a cup of wine into his hands, and Yusuf drank deeply.</p>
<p>“Yusuf!” a voice called from behind him, and Yusuf turned to see the dominus descending the stairs to the ludus. “We must celebrate! A noble victory for our house, and the gods have blessed us with rain.”</p>
<p>“It was an honour, dominus.” Yusuf replied, so buoyed by his victory that he didn’t even have to force the smile on his face.</p>
<p>“I think you deserve a reward- anything for my champion! More wine? Food? Company?” The dominus slung his arm conspiratorially around Yusuf and lowered his voice. Yusuf resisted the urge to flinch. “I could send one of the girls to you. Flavia, perhaps? Lucretia?”</p>
<p>Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was desperation, but when Yusuf opened his mouth with the aim of refusing the offer he said: “I want Nicolò.”</p>
<p>“Nicolò?” The dominus raised an eyebrow and laughed. “My, Yusuf, I did not realise you were a man of such... appetites. But perhaps one of the house slaves will suffice? Nicolò is very profitable for me and I would hate to see that profitability compromised. Unless you only wish his mouth, of course?”</p>
<p>Yusuf floundered. He hadn’t thought this through at all. What <em>did</em> he want? And more importantly, what did <em>Nicolò</em> want? Yusuf knew that Nicolò felt the same hunger he did, but surely this was not the way to go about it. He was about to tell the dominus that he’d changed his mind when he was cut off before he could get a word out.</p>
<p>“Though I suppose Doctore said he would take at least another week to recover from his injuries, and the next fights aren’t until a fortnight...” The dominus wore a contemplative expression. “And I think my dear wife would be less swayed by Nicolò’s charms should he be... defiled.”</p>
<p>Yusuf’s stomach churned. He hated this, hated himself for starting it. Nicolò wasn’t some piece of flesh to be bartered and toyed with, used to satisfy petty marital arguments. But it was too late.</p>
<p>“Very well.” The dominus said. “I’ll have Flavia bathe and prepare him. Enjoy your reward, my champion.” The dominus clapped Yusuf heartily on the back and left, leaving Yusuf alone and wondering what on earth he had just done.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>The room Yusuf waited in was small. It was usually reserved for guests, for travelling medics and traders who didn’t warrant a bed in the main villa, and was decorated accordingly with a modest bed and table. If the room had allowed for pacing, Yusuf would have. As it was, he settled for perching on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on the door. The instant he heard footsteps outside he jolted to his feet: he could recognise Nicolò’s cadence from meters away.</p>
<p>Nicolò knocked once on the door, a single, confident rap, then he stepped inside. Yusuf’s breath caught in his throat.</p>
<p>Nicolò had been dressed in a simple short tunic, his hair washed and brushed so it shined like silk. He still wore bandages on his arms and torso but for once they were clean, showing no signs of the injuries beneath. He smiled when he saw Yusuf waiting for him, a smile that made Yusuf’s heart ache: he had never wanted Nicolò more, and yet he knew he had to put a stop to it. It wasn’t <em>right</em>.</p>
<p>“Flavia informs me they’re calling you the bringer of rain now.” Nicolò laughed softly as he approached. “The saviour of the city. I wish I’d been able to see you fight.”</p>
<p>He stopped just shy of Yusuf and undid his belt, carelessly tossing the length of rope aside before moving to grasp the hem of his tunic</p>
<p>“Nicolò, wait.” Yusuf held his hand up, stopping Nicolò in his tracks. “I can’t... this isn’t what I wanted.”</p>
<p>“Yusuf, I thought... have your feelings towards me changed? I apologise if I have overstepped.”</p>
<p>“No! No. Only, you are worth more to me than this. You’re more than just a reward, more than just a single night of pleasure. I don’t want it to be like this.” Yusuf hastened to ease away the frown that had appeared on Nicolò’s forehead. Nicolò considered Yusuf’s words thoughtfully, then nodded, his frown easing.</p>
<p>“I understand.” He said, and Yusuf felt a rush of relief tinged with sadness. He understood. He knew Yusuf wasn’t going to force himself on him.</p>
<p>Yusuf wouldn’t get to touch the smooth skin under that tunic, wouldn’t get to feel Nicolò’s muscles against his own. Wouldn’t get to see what Nicolò looked like taken apart by bliss.</p>
<p>“We will not do this on their terms.” Nicolò’s voice broke Yusuf’s thoughts, his words clear and calm, demanding Yusuf look him in the eye. “We will not do this because it’s expected of us, we will not do this because it amuses then. We will do this because in this world of blood and sand we have found each other and we will <em>not let them ruin that</em>.”</p>
<p>Nicolò practically hissed the last words as he closed the gap between them. His hands came up to cradle the back of Yusuf’s neck and pull him in for a kiss. He kissed Yusuf hard, their lips crushed together so much it was almost painful, their anguish and pain and fear bubbling out of their mouths and away into the ether as they allowed themselves what had been denied for so long.</p>
<p>“I hope we are of the same mind?” Nicolò asked, a teasing smile on his face as he pulled away.</p>
<p>“Yes. Absolutely.” Yusuf agreed. He leant back in to chase Nicolò’s lips, nipping them with his teeth until they were plump and bruised then soothing them with his tongue. Nicolò drank him down eagerly, kissing Yusuf back with a fervour.</p>
<p>“If one night is all we get,” Yusuf panted against Nicolò’s lips, “then we must make it worth it. I want to map every inch of your body so that I may remember it weeks from now. I want to kiss you so hard you will remember the taste of my lips every time you wet them with wine. When you ache from training I want you to be reminded of the ache from having me inside you, filling you up and binding us together.”</p>
<p>“Yes.” Nicolò gasped, his fingers scrabbling up Yusuf’s back, kneading the muscles there. “Yes, Yusuf, <em>please</em>.”</p>
<p>He pushed away from Yusuf, and Yusuf almost mourned the loss of his warmth until Nicolò was back on him, his tunic now discarded on the floor. Yusuf sighed into Nicolò’s mouth as his hands explored the expanse of bare skin, his fingers skimming over puckered scars and bruised skin before coming to rest on the taut globes of Nicolò’s arse, the skin there remarkably soft compared to the rest of him. He squeezed, enjoying the way Nicolò’s cheeks more than filled his hands, and kneaded the muscles there as he pulled Nicolò closer still to him.</p>
<p>He broke away from Nicolò’s lips in order to kiss along his jaw, pressing his lips against the small mole by mouth again and again in worship until Nicolò laughed and squirmed away. Yusuf settled for kissing his neck instead, sucking hard on the pale skin there until it blossomed into a pattern of bruises under his tongue. Nicolò’s skin smelt faintly of hyacinths, and Yusuf was reminded that Nicolò had been <em>prepared</em> for this. The thought made him pause, and Nicolò took his head between his hands to force Yusuf to look at him.</p>
<p>“Don’t think about them.” He said softly. “They don’t deserve it.”</p>
<p>Yusuf nodded, and Nicolò stood on his tiptoes to kiss Yusuf’s forehead. It was gentle, domestic almost, a stark contrast to the look on Nicolò’s face as he took a step away from Yusuf.</p>
<p>“I’m to be your reward, am I not?” Nicolò said slyly to him as he sunk to his knees. “Then let me reward you.”</p>
<p>His fingers deftly untied Yusuf’s subligaria, exposing him to the air. It wasn’t the first time he’d been naked in front of Nicolò- such things were unavoidable in the ludus- but it was the first time they were allowed to fully appreciate the other. Nicolò took his time with Yusuf, stroking through the coarse hairs that covered his thighs and groin, testing the weight of his sac in his hand and gently rolling his balls between his fingers. He stroked Yusuf’s length once, then again, then leant in and suckled at the tip. Yusuf had to take a deep breath to steady himself: Nicolò had barely touched him and yet he was as taut as a strung bow, all too ready to release.</p>
<p>“It’s been a while, I fear.” Nicolò said as his breath ghosted along Yusuf’s cock. “Apologies.”</p>
<p>When Nicolò relaxed his jaw and slowly worked Yusuf’s length into his mouth, Yusuf had no idea what he had to apologise for. Everything he did sent sparks of pleasure flying through Yusuf’s body, from the way his tongue licked and lapped at his slit to the way he hummed around Yusuf as he took him into his throat.</p>
<p>“Jupiter’s cock, Nicolò.” Yusuf swore as Nicolò took him all the way down and <em>swallowed</em>. Nicolò simply looked up at Yusuf from his spot on the floor, his eyes sparkling under his lashes and his lips stretched obscenely wide around Yusuf’s cock. Yusuf hastily shut his eyes, the vision below him almost too much to bear.</p>
<p>“Even Jupiter would be jealous of such a cock.” Nicolò grinned as he pulled off, changing tactics and peppering Yusuf’s length with dozens of tiny licks and kisses. Yusuf sighed and gave himself over to the sensation, his fingers threading loosely through Nicolò’s hair as he closed his eyes again and rocked gently against Nicolò’s mouth. He opened his eyes again when Nicolò flicked him on the thigh.</p>
<p>“Eyes on me.” He said.</p>
<p>“I do not wish to come so soon.” Yusuf admitted. “And I fear if I look at you I will not be able to stop myself.”</p>
<p>“Ah.” Nicolò nodded and stood up. “Something else then, perhaps?”</p>
<p>Yusuf was about to ask what he had in mind, but stopped when Nicolò climbed up onto the bed. Nicolò pulled one of the thin pillows away from the headboard and folded it in half, placing it under his hips and tilting his legs so that he was fully on display for Yusuf. He positioned one arm under his head, and let the other trail down his body, pausing briefly to palm his cock before dipping his fingers down below his sac. Yusuf watched with bated breath as Nicolò lightly traced his entrance with his fingers, Nicolò’s eyes on Yusuf’s the whole time.</p>
<p>“Are you certain?” Yusuf asked.</p>
<p>“I’ve never been more certain of anything.” Nicolò said warmly.</p>
<p>Yusuf leant over to kiss him, a slow but deep kiss that held the promise of what was to come, then reached for the jar of oil that had been placed on the small table.</p>
<p>“You said it’s been a while,” Yusuf said as he dipped his middle finger into the jar of oil, “have you done <em>this</em> before?”</p>
<p>Nicolò nodded, his eyes fixed on Yusuf’s fingers.</p>
<p>“I have. Before... before all this.”</p>
<p>“Good.” Yusuf said, more to himself than to Nicolò. Still, he vowed to take it slow, as any experience Nicolò had in this area would doubtless be outweighed by the time that had passed without such pleasures.</p>
<p>He pressed his finger to Nicolò’s rim, rubbing the tight ring of muscle there without pushing more than the very tip of his finger inside, and turned his head to press a kiss to the inside of Nicolò’s thigh as he did. The scent of hyacinths was stronger there, and Yusuf was filled with the urge to take Nicolò so thoroughly there would be no trace of perfume left on him.</p>
<p>Above him, Nicolò made an impatient noise.</p>
<p>“I said I’ve done this before, Yusuf, you do not need to treat me like a nervous virgin.”</p>
<p>“I don’t wish to hurt you.” Yusuf said.</p>
<p>“The other week I was hit so hard I saw Jupiter. I’ve seen enough of my own blood spilt over the years to fill a bath of it. I’ve lived with the constant fear that the men and women I care about will be torn from this world so I think, Yusuf, that I can handle your finger.”</p>
<p>Yusuf looked up at the ferocity of Nicolò’s words, and couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his love’s face. Nicolò too thankfully laughed, a throaty chuckle that turned into a snort which should <em>not</em> have made Yusuf’s heart twinge as it did.</p>
<p>“My apologies.” Yusuf grinned, and pushed his finger in the rest of the way.</p>
<p>Nicolò’s laugh was cut off as he gasped, then he chuckled again, lazily thrusting his hips against Yusuf.</p>
<p>“See?” He said, and Yusuf had to agree.</p>
<p>Nicolò took him so well, his walls clinging wonderfully to Yusuf’s finger as he probed and stretched, adding a second finger when Nicolò asked for it.</p>
<p>“There...” Nicolò panted as Yusuf rubbed his fingers against the muscle, “No, wait, further... just a bit... <em>yes</em>.”</p>
<p>Nicolò made such a beautiful sight spread out for Yusuf, his back arching against the bed and his hands clutching over and over at the thin blanket that covered it. His cock was slowly filling as Yusuf prepared him, and Yusuf watched appreciatively as it twitched against his belly, a small bead of liquid forming at the tip. It made Yusuf’s mouth water, and he shifted up the bed in order to lap it up. Divine.</p>
<p>“Not...  not yet.” Nicolò told him, his fingers tugging at Yusuf’s curls to move his head away. “Want to feel you first.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Yusuf asked, pouring oil onto a third finger and pushing inside Nicolò with greater stretch. “Like this?”</p>
<p>“Mmm.” Nicolò agreed, his eyes closed in bliss as his hole fluttered and clamped around Yusuf’s fingers. “Wait, no.” His eyes flew open and he lifted his head up, looking down at Yusuf a look that could launch a thousand ships.</p>
<p>“No? You want me to stop?” Yusuf teased, stilling his fingers where they pressed right against Nicolò’s prostate. Nicolò let out a torrent of curses so garbled Yusuf could barely follow them. He got the idea.</p>
<p>“Ah, you want something other than my fingers. Tell me, Nicolò, what do you want?</p>
<p>Nicolò exhaled loudly through his nose, the glare he levelled at Yusuf sharper than anything he’d wielded in the arena.</p>
<p>“Tell me what you want, and I shall give it to you.” Yusuf prompted, curling his fingers inside Nicolò and causing him to let out more curses.</p>
<p>“I want your cock, Yusuf, and if you don’t hurry up and give it to me I shall take it.”</p>
<p>Part of Yusuf was tempted to see where that led, his cock throbbing at the image of Nicolò wrestling him to the ground before sinking down onto him and using Yusuf to chase his own pleasure, but he decided that the time for games was over.</p>
<p>He carefully removed his fingers and coated his cock liberally with the oil. Nicolò muttered something that sounded like “finally”, and Yusuf lightly smacked the side of his arse as retribution.</p>
<p>He held himself steady as he pushed into Nicolò’s tight heat, feeling Nicolò’s muscles relax and give way to him as he pushed ever deeper. When he was flush with Nicolò’s arse he stopped, trying to slow his breathing as he adjusted to the perfect feeling of Nicolò.</p>
<p>“I did not think I’d ever find such bliss in such a cursed place as here.” He said, the words pulled from him by the force of his emotions. Nicolò smiled up at him from where his head was propped up on the pillow.</p>
<p>“Nor I.”</p>
<p>Yusuf grinned, and leant forward to suck a kiss onto Nicolò’s collarbone.</p>
<p>“Though I confess, I feel such bliss could be improved if only you would <em>move</em>.” Nicolò added, and Yusuf laughed.</p>
<p>“As you wish.”</p>
<p>He pulled himself upright, bracing his hands on the bed either side of Nicolò, and drew out only to snap his hips forward. Nicolò moaned like a common whore as his whole body jolted with the force of Yusuf’s thrust, his mouth going slack as his head fell back onto the pillow. It was the most beautiful sound Yusuf had ever heard, but it was a sound that could not be permitted.</p>
<p>“Shhh.” Yusuf stilled his movements. “They can’t know you want this, they’ll only use it against us.”</p>
<p>Nicolò groaned, his back arching as he tried to push back onto Yusuf’s cock, and for all Yusuf’s talk of silence he had to try hard not to moan himself as Nicolò succeeded in taking more of him inside.</p>
<p>“Nicolò, please.” He pleaded. “They can’t know. They can’t.”</p>
<p>“How do you expect me to stay silent when your cock is bringing me so much pleasure?” Nicolò said coyly, slowly circling his hips against Yusuf’s and letting his head drop back in an exaggerated display of satisfaction.</p>
<p>“Nicolò.” Yusuf almost laughed. He reached up and clapped a hand over Nicolò’s mouth, then tested its effectiveness by drawing back and snapping his hips forward again in a sharp thrust. Nicolò jerked, and moaned, but the sound was reasonably dampened by Yusuf’s hand.</p>
<p>“Better.” Yusuf said, almost to himself, and started to rock into Nicolò at a steady pace. It was awkward, relying only on one arm to steady himself, but Nicolò began to move in time with his thrusts and soon Yusuf was fucking into him with abandon. Nicolò was so tight, so accommodating, so <em>perfect</em> that Yusuf had to slow down time after time in order to make it last. They only had one night: he had to make it last.</p>
<p>Yusuf alternated between keeping his hand tight over Nicolò’s mouth and leaning in to kiss his moans away. There was something incredibly satisfying about drinking down every little sound that came out of his lips, about taking it into himself and using it to fuck him all the harder.</p>
<p>Yusuf hoped that Nicolò’s muffled cries would be mistaken by the others for the shouts of a man not wishing the world to know his pain. He wished there was no need for the show, wished he could take Nicolò as he pleased and hear him chant Yusuf’s name as though it were a prayer without any fear of repercussion. One day. He told himself. One day they’d both finally be free and on that day he’d take Nicolò apart and make him sing so loud they would be heard in Rome.</p>
<p>He whispered his thoughts into Nicolò’s ear as he sped up his movements, revelling in how his words made Nicolò’s cock twitch where it was trapped between their stomachs. He awkwardly shifted onto one elbow as he tried to reach his hand down between them to stroke Nicolò to completion, but Nicolò batted his hand away.</p>
<p>“Later. Come on, Yusuf.” Nicolò urged in between kisses. “I want you to come for me.”</p>
<p>Yusuf groaned and changed position slightly, pounding into Nicolò with greater intensity. It was not enough and yet too much at the same time, Nicolò’s words carrying him to the precipice and leaving him teetering on the edge. He chased his release, his hips losing any semblance of rhythm until suddenly he was coming, thrusting into Nicolò one final time before he spilt deep inside. His hand slipped from Nicolò’s mouth but thankfully the other man was silent, the only noises he made quiet pants that echoed the pounding of Yusuf’s heart.</p>
<p>He collapsed on Nicolò’s chest, knowing the other man could bear his weight for a while, and took a deep breath to ground himself. He realised, belatedly, that Nicolò now smelt of nothing but their combined sweat and arousal, and he grinned against Nicolò’s skin.</p>
<p>Nicolò made a disappointed noise when Yusuf pulled out, his hips arching up to try to keep Yusuf inside just a second longer. Yusuf was transfixed by the sight his lover made: his hair fanned out around his head, his lips swollen from kisses, and his legs splayed obscenely wide, inviting Yusuf back in. Yusuf’s eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to Nicolò’s hole, where his spend was starting to slowly leak out.</p>
<p>He reached a finger out to scoop up the first drop, pushing it back inside Nicolò’s eager body.</p>
<p>“Yes.” Nicolò murmured, his voice heavy with satisfaction. “Don’t… don’t let it out. I want to keep you inside me as long as I can. They can’t take that from me.”</p>
<p>“Oh Nicolò.” Yusuf sighed, adding a second finger. Nicolò moaned slightly and pushed back against Yusuf, his cock now steadily leaking against his stomach.</p>
<p>“What do you need?” Yusuf asked him, thrusting his fingers into Nicolò in time with the rolls of his hips. “What do you <em>want</em>?”</p>
<p>“Your mouth.” Nicolò replied. “Please, Yusuf, I won’t last long.”</p>
<p>Yusuf leant forward immediately, briefly nuzzling into Nicolò’s balls to enjoy the concentrated scent there before licking a stripe up his cock. Nicolò made a strangled noise, and Yusuf looked up to see that he’d stuffed his own fist into his mouth in an attempt to stop his cries.</p>
<p>“Good boy.” Yusuf soothed, and Nicolò’s cock twitched against his mouth, smearing precome across his lips. He tasted wonderful, better than Yusuf had allowed himself to imagine, and he sealed his lips around the tip and sucked hard, coaxing another gush into his mouth. Nicolò was hard against Yusuf’s tongue, and it didn’t take long until he was coming down Yusuf’s throat, his groans little more than murmurs as they escaped around his fist.</p>
<p>Yusuf pulled off with one last suck, then set to work licking Nicolò’s stomach clean. Once he was satisfied he’d got every last drop Yusuf moved lower, finally pulling his fingers free of Nicolò. He ducked in and pressed his mouth against his fluttering hole, darting his tongue inside and revelling in the taste of himself combined with Nicolò.</p>
<p>“What… Yusuf, what?” Nicolò asked hazily.</p>
<p>Yusuf withdrew, making a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth in order to clean them.</p>
<p>“We can’t wash here.” He said. “And I do not want to risk others seeing you like this.”</p>
<p>“Mmm.” Nicolò agreed. “Just you. Only you, Yusuf.”</p>
<p>“Only me.” Yusuf said.</p>
<p>He returned to his task and soon, too soon, Nicolò was cleaned up well enough for them to go and wash up. Neither of them moved.</p>
<p>“How long do you think we have?” Nicolò asked as he pulled Yusuf down to lie against his chest.</p>
<p>“A little longer, at least.” Yusuf said. They should leave now, he knew it, should pretend that this was nothing more than satisfying a base lust, but Yusuf couldn’t deny himself a few more minutes of peace with Nicolò’s arms tight around him.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>It was a unique kind of torture, Yusuf thought, to have finally been able to hold Nicolò in his arms for one night only to be torn apart again so soon after. His days were haunted by the memories of the rare laughs he had pulled from Nicolò’s throat, his nights spent tossing and turning as his body longed for the touch of Nicolò’s skin against his own. Before he had been satisfied by their infrequent kisses: now he constantly hungered for more.</p>
<p>He was not the only one who hungered for Nicolò. The domina still had her desires on him, and though Doctore had calmly but firmly insisted that Nicolò remain in the ludus until fully recovered Yusuf knew it was only a matter of time: the only thing Nicolò still had to recover from was a slight stiffness in his shoulder in the mornings. Doctore was buying him precious time, but there was only so much of it he could find.</p>
<p>Yusuf’s heart sank whenever he saw Flavia appear at the gate to the ludus, dreading the day when Doctore would be unable to turn her away. One day, however, Flavia lingered by the stairs after she was dismissed, her eyes silently beckoning Yusuf over.</p>
<p>“Is all well?” he asked her, and she hushed him impatiently.</p>
<p>“There’s to be an exhibition, now that Nicolò has more or less recovered.” Flavia whispered as Yusuf drew closer. “Here in the ludus.”</p>
<p>Yusuf frowned. “I thank you for telling me, but you did not have to risk yourself for-“</p>
<p>Flavia’s hand shot out between the bars, clasping onto Yusuf’s arm.</p>
<p>“To the death.” She whispered. “It’s to the death. There can only be one champion.”</p>
<p>The sound of footsteps emerged from behind Yusuf and Flavia startled, dropping his arm and fleeing back up the stairs. Yusuf’s blood felt frozen. This couldn’t be? It just wasn’t fair, he and Nicolò had only just found something between themselves and now one was expected to kill the other?</p>
<p>He left the gate, searching the ludus for Nicolò and managed to find him outside, polishing his sica as he watched their brothers train.</p>
<p>“Yusuf.” He smiled in greeting, and edged further along his bench in order to let Yusuf sit down next to him. His smile dropped when he noticed Yusuf’s expression. “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>Yusuf repeated Flavia’s words, and Nicolò listened solemnly. When Yusuf finished he resumed polishing his blade as though nothing had happened.</p>
<p>“I see.” He said.</p>
<p>“What do we do?” Yusuf asked him, his own voice barely more than a whisper.</p>
<p>“What can we do?” Nicolò refused to meet Yusuf’s gaze, staring resolutely at his blade. He was scrubbing furiously at the same spot, the methodical motion quickly turning into a frenzy.</p>
<p>“We can refuse to fight, we can pretend to be ill, we can-”</p>
<p>“We <em>can’t</em>, Yusuf. We can’t do anything. We’re nothing to them, and no amount of pleading will change that. There’s nothing- argh!” Nicolò’s furious polishing had seen his thumb slip and nick the blade. He angrily sucked his thumb into his mouth.</p>
<p>“There’s nothing we can do.” He said. He stood up and stalked away indoors without a backwards glance. Yusuf put his head in his hands and tried not to cry.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Yusuf did not believe in the Roman gods- after all, they weren’t his- but as he slept that night he had a dream that he could only describe as a vision sent from the heavens. He saw himself and Nicolò, fighting on the sand of the ludus as the dominus laughed and jeered from his balcony. He saw Nicolò flying, carried on the wind as though he had wings, away from Yusuf. As Nicolò flew the dominus fell, his laugh echoing in Yusuf’s ears as he disappeared down a never ending chasm. Yusuf was flying too, he realised, soaring above the ludus, above the city, above the empire. Freedom.</p>
<p>When he woke, he had something akin to a plan.</p>
<p>That morning, the dominus announced his plans to hold an exhibition at the ludus. He came down to the training ground to tell them all, delivering the news as though they should all be thankful for it.</p>
<p>“It’s a chance,” he told them, “to make this house proud of you. To make this house stand taller in the eyes of Rome, to gain respect greater than any other gladiator. This will be a spectacle for the ages. Do not disappoint me.”</p>
<p>He dismissed them all with a wave, but made no effort to return to the villa. “Yusuf, a word.” He called.</p>
<p>He beckoned Yusuf over to him, and walked along the training square until they were stood well apart from the others. Nicolò stood apart from their brothers, his face expressionless as he watched Yusuf with eagle eyes.</p>
<p>“I know you must feel betrayed by this, but believe me, I have not lost my faith in you. Nicolò is barely recovered: it will be an easy match for you to win. I’ll gain the respect of Rome with such a fight, and be rid of the cause of my wife’s disinterest in me in one evening.”</p>
<p>Yusuf couldn’t respond, the urge to strike out and hit the man in front of him almost all consuming. He settled for gritting his teeth and nodding.</p>
<p>“I have faith in you, my champion. When you win, I’d say we can even start discussions regarding your freedom.” The dominus rested his hand on Yusuf’s shoulder, his eyes boring into Yusuf’s own. Yusuf realised he was expecting an answer.</p>
<p>“Thank you, dominus.” He said through clenched teeth. “I will not disappoint you.”</p>
<p>“Good.” The dominus smiled, and patted Yusuf on the cheek. “And I’m sorry about Nicolò. I know you had… an attachment to him. But do this for me and I’ll buy you a man to warm your bed every night from now.”</p>
<p>He stalked away, and as soon as he was out of sight Yusuf went to Nicolò. He was sat in his cell, idly tracing patterns in the dirt on the floor, and didn’t look up as Yusuf entered.</p>
<p>“I will not fight you.” Nicolò said as Yusuf sat down beside him. He had been crying, Yusuf noticed, his tears having left clean streaks through the dirt on his face. “I will refuse. The dominus will kill me, but I would rather leave this world with your hands unstained by my blood.”</p>
<p>“Nicolò, no.” Yusuf breathed.</p>
<p>“What we had- what we <em>have</em>, Yusuf. It could never survive. Not in a place like this.” Nicolò’s voice was full of sadness, though he forced himself to keep a calm expression. He’d thought much about it, Yusuf realised, and had already made his peace with it. Yusuf wouldn’t stand for it.</p>
<p>“Not in a place like this, no.” He agreed, and sat down next to Nicolò, taking his hand between his own and not caring who saw. “But elsewhere? I believe we have a chance.”</p>
<p>“It’s a beautiful dream.” Nicolò said. “And I will take comfort in it in my last days here.”</p>
<p>“No.” Yusuf shook his head. “We must fight.”</p>
<p>Nicolò said nothing, but the question in his eyes was clear.</p>
<p>“We must fight <em>for our freedom</em>.” Yusuf said.</p>
<p>“I don’t understand.”</p>
<p>Yusuf glanced around the ludus, making sure they would not be overheard.</p>
<p>“I have a plan.”</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Yusuf had never seen the villa so full of life before. It seemed that the dominus had invited guests from all over the empire to watch the spectacle he had planned, and the sounds of their laughter and drunken shouts echoed down the stairs and into the ludus as Yusuf moved amongst his brothers, whispering his plan to them.</p>
<p>“Be ready.” He told them. “We will see nightfall either as free men or dead ones but know this: our time under this shadow will end.”</p>
<p>Yusuf had been so sure of his plan that morning, so certain it would succeed, but as the fight drew nearer and nearer he found his mind suddenly clouded with doubt.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry.” Nicolò told him in a low voice as they strapped their armour on. “It is as you said: one way or another tonight we will be free, and if I am to die by your side I could not think of a better way to leave this world.”</p>
<p>“I love you.” Yusuf said quickly, knowing this would be his last chance to say it. “Nicolò, I-”</p>
<p>“I love you too.” Nicolò’s small smile was sad, but his eyes were bright as he looked at Yusuf. “We will win, Yusuf. I know it.”</p>
<p>He touched Yusuf fleetingly on the arm then left, heading out towards the training ground. Yusuf took a deep breath then followed. Their brothers were already outside, lining the sides of their makeshift arena, and the dominus and his guests were all gathered on the balcony.</p>
<p>“My dear friends, it is with great pleasure that I present to you our champion: Yusuf, the murmillo.” The dominus announced grandly from his vantage point. His guests cheered, and a few of the women catcalled down to him. One even pulled her dress aside to bare her breast at him, and Yusuf turned away in disgust.</p>
<p>“Opposing him, we have Nicolò, our thracian.”</p>
<p>Nicolò received the same cries and cheers as he stepped out onto the sand to greet the Romans on the balcony, his helmet already covering his face.</p>
<p>“Ready?” Yusuf asked him under his breath, lifting his own helmet into place.</p>
<p>“Always.” Nicolò replied, shifting into his fighting stance.</p>
<p>They both turned to the dominus, waiting for his signal to start. Yusuf’s heart pounded in his ears, his pulse racing as it had when he face Heracleo. This was it.</p>
<p>As the dominus dropped his hand, Nicolò ran at him. Their first few times their blade met were for show, the product of the drills they had practised with each other over and over under the watchful eye of Doctore. Yusuf knew the dance well: strike, parry, dodge, strike. Again and again until the pattern broke and they were fighting for real. The crowd murmured in appreciation, and a few howled down their encouragement to their favoured fighter.</p>
<p>“Now.” Yusuf said under his breath to Nicolò as their swords caught in the air. Nicolò nodded, his eyes shining through the slats of the helmet.</p>
<p>They backed away from each other, Nicolò gearing up to charge at Yusuf. Yusuf planted his feet and tightened his grip on his shield. This was it.</p>
<p>Nicolò ran towards him, a wordless yell escaping his lips as he raised his sica in the air and sprung from the ground. Yusuf bent down and shouldered his shield, feeling the instant Nicolo’s feet made contact with it and pushing upwards with all his might. He backed away, trying to see what had happened as screams and cries started to grow from the balcony where Nicolo had landed. Yusuf could see nothing but the frantic press of bodies, of a sword flashing amongst them. A second later the body of the dominus was thrown over the side of the balcony, soaking the sand of the ludus with blood.</p>
<p>A cheer rang out amongst Yusuf’s brothers, and they ran as one body to the gate that led to the stairs. Flavia was there, frantically searching for a key with bloodstained fingers, her hands trembling as she finally opened the gate to the villa.</p>
<p>“Gather the others.” Yusuf told her. “Arm yourselves however you can but stay behind us. You must be ready to run.”</p>
<p>She nodded, and held up a dagger for him to see. It was dainty, more of an ornament than a weapon and decorated with rubies, the domina’s preferred jewel.</p>
<p>“She won’t stop us.” She said, her voice small but defiant.</p>
<p>“No one will.” Yusuf said grimly, touching Flavia briefly on the shoulder than running up the stairs.</p>
<p>It was carnage in the villa. Several of the guests were armed and trying to fight, but there were too few of them to make much difference. A few bodyguards took a stand to defend their masters, but more joined Yusuf and the others in turning on their slavers and fighting for their freedom. There were screams and cries and more blood than Yusuf had ever seen in his life but he didn’t relent, didn’t slow down until the only faces he saw standing were the faces of his brothers and sisters.</p>
<p>“Yusuf!”</p>
<p>Yusuf recognised Nicolò’s voice immediately and whirled round, searching for him: there he was, running in from the courtyard, his torso covered in blood and his shield broken into shards.</p>
<p>“Thank the gods.” Nicolò breathed, pulling him into a tight embrace.</p>
<p>“Not yet.” Yusuf warned him. “We have to leave. Now.”</p>
<p>“To the hills!” he shouted to the others. “Everyone, take what food and weapons you can carry and follow me!”</p>
<p>One of the domina’s maids was crumpled on the floor, her foot bent at an unnatural angle, and Yusuf threw his shield aside in favour of scooping her up into his arms. She sobbed her thanks and wrapped her arms tight around his shoulders. Yusuf ran.</p>
<p>Together they made for the hills, their run soon slowing to a walk, then a limp. When the villa was little more than a speck at the bottom of the mountain they stopped completely. Yusuf set the woman in his arm down and inspected her foot- it wasn’t broken, as he had suspected, but merely dislocated. She whimpered in pain as his fingers brushed against it and he withdrew, wondering what to do.</p>
<p>“Let me.” Castus said from behind Yusuf. He crouched down next to her and gently cupped her foot, muttering soothing words to her before swiftly popping the joint back into the socket. She inhaled sharply then relaxed, crumpling into him. Yusuf patted Castus on the shoulder then stood up.</p>
<p>He looked around at the huddle of people, mentally counting the faces he saw. Flavia was there, trembling and still clutching her dagger, Castus, Duro and Brennus all seemed uninjured and were tending to their wounded brothers, Doctore... Doctore was with them. Yusuf gripped his gladius tighter and stepped forward, and Doctore chuckled.</p>
<p>“Peace, Yusuf.” He said. “My loyalty to the dominus broke long ago. My only loyalty now is to the men I swore to watch over.”</p>
<p>Yusuf nodded. Good. He was more than capable of slicing his way through fat Romans and their unprepared guards but Doctore was another matter.</p>
<p>“What now?” One of the kitchen girls asked, turning to Yusuf. The others picked up on her words and joined her in looking at Yusuf expectantly. Even Doctore turned towards him, his eyebrow cocked and a shadow of a smile on his lips. Yusuf hadn’t thought this far, had never even imagined that the others would want him to lead.</p>
<p>“Whatever you do, I’m with you.” Nicolò said softly, coming up behind Yusuf and resting his hand on Yusuf’s shoulder. Yusuf reached up to touch Nicolò’s hand, taking solace from the touch.</p>
<p>“We can’t stay here.” Yusuf said, addressing everyone. “And though we may want to go our separate ways for now we must stay together. We need shelter, and food, and weapons.”</p>
<p>“There’s an abandoned temple barely an hour’s walk from here.” One of the house slaves offered. “Set into a cave in the mountain.”</p>
<p>“Good.” Yusuf nodded, about to move onto the next item then paused, turning back to the man who’d spoken. “What’s your name, brother?”</p>
<p>“Felix.”</p>
<p>“Felix, thank you.” Yusuf smiled. “Take Doctore and Castus and lead the way. The rest of you who are unarmed should follow, and those of us with weapons shall watch your backs. Look out for signs of water, for animal tracks, but most of all watch out for each other. No man is disposable, and we will not leave anyone behind.”</p>
<p>They set off walking through the woods, Yusuf’s ears straining for any sound of men following them. He knew it was too soon, knew no one would even think about setting foot in the villa until the next day, but he could not allow himself to relax. Nicolò fell into step beside him, and just that simple fact went some ways to calming Yusuf’s racing heart.</p>
<p>“I know you did not ask for this responsibility,” Nicolò said as they walked, “but there is no man here better suited to lead us.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” Yusuf smiled, then on an impulse pulled Nicolò over to him, kissing his head. It was such a small gesture, and yet Yusuf’s heart sang to be able to do it without any fear of repercussion.</p>
<p>The temple soon came into view, and to Yusuf’s relief it was walled all around the entrance. A man with good eyes positioned at that wall should be able to see any passersby approaching from a fair distance away.</p>
<p>“Diana.” Nicolò murmured as his fingers traced the emblem etched into the stone by the gate. He smiled to himself then turned to Yusuf. “I think she would favour us.” He said.</p>
<p>Once inside Yusuf set about organising shifts. Some were sent out to gather firewood and collect water, others cleared a space for the wounded and set to watching over them. Soon the temple was lit by the glow of fire, the chill in the air slowly dispersing.</p>
<p>Doctore appeared with a deer carcass over his shoulders, and Metella and Julius set about skinning and roasting it over the fire. Yusuf couldn’t relax, not fully, but watching the small community form around him was more warming than any fire could be. For the first time in years, he felt an ember of hope flicker inside him.</p>
<p>It was dark out, the woods surrounding them deathly quiet but for the rustle of trees and the small cries of animals. With any luck, the carnage at the ludus wouldn’t be discovered until well into the next day, but they already planned to move on before first light. They weren’t safe. Not just yet.</p>
<p>Yusuf startled as he heard footsteps behind him, then relaxed when he recognised Doctore.</p>
<p>“You are on edge. Good. We cannot let our guards down.” Doctore said.</p>
<p>Yusuf laughed. “You taught me well.”</p>
<p>“That I did.” Doctore smiled a rare smile. “I’ll take the first watch. You have been through much, Yusuf, and you should rest.” Doctore glanced over Yusuf’s shoulder at Nicolò, who was helping Flavia tear up strips of cloth for bandages. “Both of you should rest.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” Yusuf said earnestly. He had been prepared to stay awake the whole night if need be, but the offer of a few hours sleep was too good to refuse.</p>
<p>He headed back inside the temple and squatted next to Nicolò, wrapping his arms around him and entreating him to rest.</p>
<p>“You too.” He told Flavia. “You’ve done more than enough.”</p>
<p>She nodded, too tired to speak, and wandered off into the furthest corners of the temple: the gladiators- <em>ex-</em>gladiators- would sleep at the front.</p>
<p>“We did it.” Nicolò said softly as he and Yusuf cleared a patch of the floor to sleep on. “I can’t quite believe it.”</p>
<p>They lay on the cold hard floor together, Nicolò’s back to Yusuf’s chest, the weight and heat of him making Yusuf feel safer than any amount of armour. Nicolò’s hand was wrapped around his sica, and Yusuf’s own gladius lay next to his head.</p>
<p>“Yusuf.” Nicolò’s voice was barely audible above the spitting of their campfires. “Tell me about our future.”</p>
<p>“We’ll travel north to make sure your family is safe, then we take a boat far away from here. And we’ll cut down any man who dares put another in chains that we see along the way.” Yusuf smiled into Nicolò’s neck. “We’ll start a farm.” He said. “Far away from any city. We’ll grow crops and breed goats. I’ll teach you how to make the bread from my home and you’ll teach me the songs your mother taught you. I’ll swap my sword for a rake; you’ll swap yours for a sickle. We’ll live and we’ll laugh and we’ll be free, free to love each other as we were born to.”</p>
<p>“That would be nice.” Nicolò said, his voice beginning to sound drowsy.</p>
<p>“I’ll write you poetry.” Yusuf added, and Nicolò huffed a laugh.</p>
<p>Yusuf pulled him closer still and nuzzled his nose into the back of Nicolò’s neck.</p>
<p>Their bed was uncomfortable and Yusuf knew that their path ahead would be just as dangerous as anything he’d faced in the arena, but none of that mattered. He was free, his brothers and sisters were free, and he had Nicolò wrapped in his arms.</p>
<p>They were free.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I haven't seen the Spartacus TV series in a couple of years and when I went to watch it as prep for this I realised Netflix had taken it down and boy that was more devastating than it should have been. 2020 really changed my priorities huh.<br/>Also the base for this AU is pretty serious on account of the terrible lives gladiators led, so if anyone has any issues with how I've presented things obvs let me know.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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